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Saturday, 26 August 2017

A great day for the Scribbler! Marjorie Mallon is our featured guest this week. She is an author's dear friend, a kind and generous sharer. I’m delighted to be a guest on Allan Hudson’s blog South Branch Scribbler. I have some fabulous news to share with you, the kindle copy of my book – The Curse of Time #1 Bloodstone releases today, Saturday August 26th. You are all invited to a fun on-line party on my blog: https://mjmallon.com/ Facebook and on social media. The Curse of Time is a middle grade/YA Fantasy set in Cambridge, England. I promise that the story will appeal to a wide range of age groups who love an imaginative, magical story so whether you are a young teen, an older teenager or an adult who has never grown up there will be something you will enjoy. I promise. Just because it says YA don’t conclude that the audience for the book or the party going age is restricted! Please join me on this long awaited day; I’m so excited to say that I’m an author. It truly is a dream come true.

And now, meet Marjorie Mallon and read an excerpt from her novel.

I am a debut author who has been
blogging for three years: https://mjmallon.com. My interests include writing,
photography, poetry, and alternative therapies. I write Fantasy YA, middle
grade fiction and micro poetry - haiku and tanka. I love to read and have
written over 100 reviews: https://mjmallon.com/2015/09/28/a-z-of-my-book-reviews/

My alter ego is MJ - Mary Jane from
Spiderman. I love superheroes! I was born on the 17th of November in Lion City:
Singapore, (a passionate Scorpio, with the Chinese Zodiac sign a lucky rabbit,)
second child and only daughter to my proud parents Paula and Ronald. I grew up
in a mountainous court in the Peak District in Hong Kong with my elder brother
Donald. My parents dragged me away from my exotic childhood and my much loved
dog Topsy to the frozen wastelands of Scotland. In bonnie Edinburgh I mastered
Scottish country dancing, and a whole new Och Aye lingo.

As a teenager I travelled to many
far-flung destinations to visit my abacus wielding wayfarer dad. It's rumoured
that I now live in the Venice of Cambridge, with my six foot hunk of a Rock God
husband, and my two enchanted daughters. After such an upbringing my author's
mind has taken total leave of its senses! When I’m not writing, I eat exotic
delicacies while belly dancing, or surf to the far reaches of the moon. To
chill out, I practise Tai Chi. If the mood takes me I snorkel with mermaids, or
sign up for idyllic holidays with the Chinese Unicorn, whose magnificent voice
sings like a thousand wind chimes.

An Excerpt from The Curse of Time. Book One - The Bloodstone.

(Copyright is held by the author. Used with permis

sion)

Puzzle
Piece 1: The Invitation

Opportunity,

An unexpected invite,

Such a mystery,

To explore and discover,

A hidden cottage of light.

I found it to be a mystifying situation. An
unnatural stillness seemed to linger after many days of storms. Today, the sky
reminded me of a painting. It appeared too perfect, too bright, too still, a
picture landscape with no beginning or end. Instead, the vault of heaven spread
out toward an endless grey forever, as if seeping around the edges of an
untamed watercolour bleeding into the rest of the day. Even so, the sight
filled my heart with promise, a ray of hope in an otherwise dull morning.

The quietness of my contemplation came to an abrupt
end. I

heard the sound of an envelope crashing through the mail box. I jumped
at the clatter. The letter landed on the floor as the sound of a thousand
crystal chandeliers echoed throughout the house. I rushed to retrieve the
envelope and turned it this way and that. I couldn’t find an address label and
wondered if the note had been hand-delivered. Who could this message be for?

I stood puzzling over this peculiar circumstance when
out of nowhere my name: Amelina Scott appeared in bold writing. I watched
wide-eyed as the final character of my surname was spelled out in a delicate
font. I tore the dispatch open and inside I discovered a card printed on the
finest paper with gilt edges and embossed calligraphy. There were few details,
just an instruction to visit:

Crystal Cottage, River Walk, Cambridge, and the
following added at the bottom as an afterthought: R.S.V.P – Not required. We
promise to be welcoming when you arrive. When you’re ready, you’ll discover us…

I shook my head in disbelief.
Nothing good ever happens to the Scott’s so this invitation might look magical,
but surely it must be nonsense. Weird messages from unknown sources count as
dubious junk mail, the way I look at it.

I grabbed the envelope and attempted
to rip it into pieces, but it wouldn’t tear. With a mind of its own the
envelope curled its edges in protest. I searched in a drawer until I found
scissors and tried to cut the invite. That didn’t work either. My hand ached,
but the invitation endured intact as if mocking me.

Frustrated, I tried to cut the
invitation again. A sputtered cursing sound filled the room even though I was
alone. On my third attempt, I tore into the card with success. (I think it let
me.) And once again, I perceived a noise, an angry murmur, and then nothing.
Quiet descended in the room, so I threw the torn parts into the bin.

Finally satisfied that the annoying
issue with the strange invite would no longer plague me, I brushed my hands
together, and picked an apple out of the bowl on the kitchen counter, polished
it on my jumper and then took a bite. In no time my hunger had abated, and as I
chucked the core towards the bin, I registered a chuckle. I stopped, my feet rooted
to the ground as a feeling of certainty filled my soul. I knew what to expect.
I have no idea how I did, but I could see the image in my mind, the invitation
had reformed. The invitation was playing
games with me! I peered in the rubbish, and there I saw the envelope, connected
in one perfect, unblemished piece. What the heck?

Summary by the Author.

On
Amelina Scott’s thirteenth birthday, her father disappears under mysterious
circumstances. Saddened by this traumatic event, she pieces together details of
a curse that has stricken the heart and soul of her family.

Amelina longs for someone to confide in. Her once carefree mother has become
angry and despondent. One day a strange black cat and a young girl, named Esme
appear. Immediately, Esme becomes the sister Amelina never had. The only catch
is that Esme must remain a prisoner, living within the mirrors of Amelina's
house.

Dreams and a puzzling invitation convince Amelina the answer to her family's
troubles lies within the walls of the illusive Crystal Cottage. Undaunted by
her mother’s warnings, Amelina searches for the cottage on an isolated
Cambridgeshire pathway where she encounters a charismatic young man, named
Ryder. At the right moment, he steps out of the shadows, rescuing her from the
unwanted attention of two male troublemakers.

With the help of an enchanted paint set, Amelina meets the eccentric owner of
the cottage, Leanne, who instructs her in the art of crystal magic. In time,
she earns the right to use three wizard stones. The first awakens her spirit to
discover a time of legends, and later, leads her to the Bloodstone, the supreme
cleansing crystal which has the power to restore the balance of time. Will
Amelina find the power to set her family free?

Saturday, 19 August 2017

Janice Wald is an author, a freelance writer, a blogger and
a blogging coach. She blogs at Mostly Blogging.com where she shares tips for
bloggers and marketers. Wald has been included in over thirty expert interviews
and interview panels. Her blog was nominated for the 2017 Most Informative Blog
Award at the London Blogger’s Bash. She recently published AN INSIDER’S GUIDE
TO BUILDING A SUCCESSFUL BLOG (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M4QOD41)
available on Amazon.

She has agreed to answer some questions for a 4Q Interview.

4Q: You have written An Insider’s Guide to Building a Successful Blog. Please tell us how this came about.

JW: It was always my dream to be a published author. Of course, I never believed in my wildest dreams it would come to fruition.

After I started blogging for about a year, people suggested I combine my blog posts into an ebook. I couldn’t decide if it should be about blogging or social media since my blog post articles contain tips for both.

To find out what the members of my email list would be interested in reading a book about, I polled them.

They indicated they’d be interested in reading a social media tips ebook, so that became the plan.

However, the longer I spent compiling my posts, the clearer it became that there was tremendous overlap between the two topics.

For example, I wrote an article on the best times to blog on social media. Would that go in a social media tips book or a blogging tips book?

My publisher solved the dilemma by changing the title and combining the topics into one book. It was originally going to be called YOUR ONE-STOP GUIDE TO SOCIAL MEDIA.

She actually gave me several choices that fit the combined content. I chose AN INSIDER’S GUIDE TO BUILDING A SUCCESSFUL BLOG.

My mission is to help bloggers. Although it started out to help new bloggers, many of the bloggers that started blogging when I started writing are no longer new.

Therefore, my tips have evolved. Instead of solely being for new bloggers, they are now for bloggers of all experience levels.

Many bloggers go on to market their goods and services. For that reason, in addition to blogging, social media, SEO, productivity, and technology tips for bloggers, I also write marketing tips for bloggers as well.

I realize many of your readers are writers. I also offer writing tips at my blog. Of course, there is overlap. Bloggers are writers, and many authors are required to have blogs.

4Q: Please share a childhood memory or anecdote.

JW: I would like to share one that relates to my blogging passion.

When I was younger, I considered various professions. I was torn between being a lawyer like my father or a teacher. My father told me lawyers needed extremely strong writing skills. Not having enough confidence in my writing led me to choose teaching. I thought I could teach writing as an English teacher and share my passion for writing that way.

After my children went to college, I completed my Master’s Degree in Education. One of my university professors told me I was the strongest writer in the program!

Confidence in hand, I began my blog and have been blogging ever since I graduated.

4Q: If you could tell us one important thing about our blogs, what would it be?

JW: Can I share two? The first is patience is vital to the success of any blogger. Trust me. I do not say this lightly since I am not the most patient person. If we want success, we’d prefer to have it sooner than later. Other than the rare exception, it takes a great deal of work over a long period of time to build up a blog. Success, for most of us, does not come over night. As soon as I heard that blogging is a marathon not a sprint, I relaxed and enjoyed the ride.

My second tip is related to the first. Part of that work toward blogging success involves networking. Network by commenting, network by Googling top blogs in your niche and networking there. Try to be among the earliest commenters. When you network, suggest people check out your blog. Often, it just won’t occur to people unless you mention it.

Allan, thank you for having me on your blog as your guest.

Thank you Janice for sharing your thoughts on the Scribbler.

For those interested in contacting Janice to help with your blog, go __http://www.mostlyblogging.com/blog-critiques/____

Saturday, 12 August 2017

The Scribbler is pleased to have Vashti as our guest this week. It is her second visit to the SBS. She is an accomplished author and an award winning blogger. On her first visit she shared a short story - A Time to Mourn and a Time to Dance. If you missed it you can go hereThis week she has been kind enough to share her thoughts in the 4Q Interview as well as an excerpt from her just-released novel - The Fall of Lilith****Until the 15th of August, Vashti is offering her novel for the crazy low price of $0.99. Go here!

4Q: You recently shared a cover reveal for your latest
work. Tell us about The Fall of Lilith.

VQ: The Fall
of Lilith is an epic tale with dark elements about angels for an adult audience
(18+).It is the first installment of my Fantasy Angels
Series. The characters in this story are angels depicted in a very unique way.
It is a story of many twists, surprises and a bit of controversy.

Structurally, The Fall of Lilith
is divided internally into two books, BOOK I – Heaven and BOOK II – Earth in
one volume, so you get two books for the prize of one.

This is the BLURB

“I
merely assisted you in doing what you desired all along.”

So says Lilith, the most
exquisite of the angels. The two most important pledges an angel makes to God
are those of obedience and celibacy, and dire consequences await any who break
their oaths.

At first, the angels are happy in
their celestial home, learning and exploring together. As they grow older, though,
Lilith begins to question these pledges, which now seem arbitrary and stifling.
Her challenge of the status quo leads to disagreement, jealousy, and strife
among her peers. As the arguing and acrimony grow, lines are drawn and sides
are chosen. Is war inevitable?

Filled with robust characters,
incredible landscapes, and exciting action, The Fall of
Lilith is an epic tale of seduction, betrayal, and revenge.

Free Will involves asking
difficult questions and making hard choices, choices that require strength and
sacrifice. These decisions can tear apart friendships and cause rifts between
allies.

They can even
threaten the foundations of Heaven.

4Q: What is it about the supernatural that inspires you?

VQ: I grew up in a religious home,
attended private school and went to church regularly with my parents. I read
many religious books. I also read many fairy tales and mythology books. From a
very young age I was intrigued by supernatural beings, especially angels and I
often wondered what they were like, since the bible doesn’t say much about them.
The combination of all of this is what inspired me to write The Fall of Lilith.

4Q: Please share a childhood memory or anecdote.

VQ: I began reading, writing and storytelling at an early
age. I remember making comic books and selling them for a quarter in elementary
school. My History teacher caught me; she gave me a look and asked me what I
was doing. When I showed her the comic book I had made she looked through it
and told me to wait until after class to sell it and then she told me to
increase the prize because I was selling it too cheap. Ha, ha!

4Q: Please tell us where you are most comfortable writing
your stories and what does the near future hold for Vashti Quiroz-Vega.

VQ: I enjoy setting up my laptop on the dinning room
table. It’s a nice open area and I have a great view of my back yard (I live on
a golf course).

Right now
I’m busy trying to spread the word about The Fall of Lilith. I am also working
on the 2nd instalment of my Fantasy Angels Series tentatively
called, Dracúl, which follows where The Fall of Lilith ends.

An excerpt
from The Fall of Lilith.

Before He created the universe, God was present. Alone
and bored in Heaven, He decided to create angels––celestial beings to serve as
companions. When God formed them, He made them perfect. He then endowed them
with free will so they might choose their own way, making them somewhat
unpredictable––and more interesting.

There are three realms of Heaven: Heaven Most High
where God resides, Metá Heaven, and Floraison, the lowest realm of Heaven where
God placed the angels. Different dimensions separate these realms and only God
traveled between them as He pleased.

The angels were child-like when God first made them. A
delicate brilliance emanated from within each one. They were formed with two small
white wings, which carried them across the vast expanse of Floraison quickly
and without much effort. God clothed the angels because He desired to show
distinction between the superior celestial beings and the other creatures that
roamed the lowest realm of Heaven. There were many strict rules in God’s system
of law, as He held angels at higher standards than any other creature. The two most
important vows of an angel were obedience and celibacy.

Although the young angels bore many similarities early
on, they developed distinct personalities and traits due to their free will.
God also promised each angel one or more special ability, which in time they
would develop and learn to control. What divine skill they would acquire and
when was as individual as they were.

There was no need for a sun, moon, or stars to give
Floraison light. God’s splendor lit the lowest realm, and the skies were
beautiful beyond compare. There was no true darkness where the angels lived. In
Floraison’s unit of time there was brillante, when the light was at its most
intense and nightglow when at its dimmest. There were many trees and meadows
adorned with colorful flowers that emitted fragrances evoking happiness and
vigor. Magnificent creatures abounded, large and small––perfect in every way
and pleasing to the senses. Some of these creatures were prototypes for beings
God created on different planets, and others were unique to Floraison.

The River of Life, a pure river with crystalline
healing waters, flowed between realms and proceeded from God’s throne room. The
chamber was accessed through a portal that led to Metá Heaven where God’s
presence could be reached. Only by His expressed permission could one cross
this portal. This hall was aglow with the most exquisite light ever seen, and
it was in the throne room God passed laws and judgments.

There were fruit trees, root vegetables, bush berries,
and many more edible delights in Floraison, but the angels did not require
food. These delicacies existed to teach them self-discipline since these foods
were delicious, producing energy and much pleasure. They were only allowed to
partake of the food during celebrations and after strenuous workouts. It
required God’s consent. The young angels spent their early days getting to know
one another and learning about God’s laws, nature, animals, the cosmos, and
themselves.

Lilith and Michael delighted in their home, for
Floraison was exquisite and full of joy, most of the time.

“I accept rules because they establish guidelines for
action and conduct,” Michael said with a solemn expression. “Rules create
stability, discipline, and promote safety. Could you imagine what Beelzebub
would be like had he no rules to follow?” Lilith glanced at Michael, the
corners of her lips fighting a smile, her eyebrows slightly raised. Michael’s
mouth twitched and soon they both burst into laughter.

“Beelzebub
would be a complete mess without rules. I know that,” Lilith said. “But still,
I am not fond of the many rules set by God for our kind. You are an upholder
while I am a questioner.”

Michael puckered his brow. “How could one question
God?”

Lilith ignored his question. “I cannot wait for the
day I discover the divine talents He has promised. I hope my abilities are
godlike.” Perceiving the power of God, evident in all things, awakened in her
mind an aspiration that consumed her. She was fired by the desire for divine
power.

Michael looked at her sideways. “You have always told
me that you longed to be close to God––to be first in his eyes. How do you
expect to rise to Heaven Most High if you question God’s laws?”

“God does not want us to follow his laws without
question. That is why he gave us free will, so that we may follow our own
path.”

Michael gazed into her peculiar yet beautiful eyes,
one blue iris and one brown iris. “Perhaps one day I shall come to understand
you.”

“Sooner rather than later––I hope.” She gazed up at
him through her long, dark lashes, giggled and grabbed his hand. “Come, let us
go to Sonnoris.” Lilith enjoyed the marvels in Floraison all the while
imagining the day she would create wonders of her own.

Thank you so
much for being our guest this week Vashti. Best wishes for your continued
success with this series.

The pleasure
is all mine, Allan. I am grateful to be here. Thank you for helping me spread
the word about my new release, The Fall of Lilith.

Saturday, 5 August 2017

Thanks for dropping by the Scribbler. I posted Part 1 of this story last week and if you want to check that out, just scroll down to the bottom of this post.Can you imagine what it would be like if you were ten years old and came across a parked car in the field? Wouldn't you be curious too?Two Boys, One Wagon & a Secret - Part 2.(copyright is held by the author)

And then Beans says,
“We didn’t do very good in school did we? My folks keep telling me I can do
better. I hate studying, I only like arithmetic… and comics.”

The topic of
school is a tender one for Chops. The new teacher has an obvious dislike for
him. He’s not a fast thinker like Beans; he needs to hear complicated things
repeated to understand them and their instructor is short on patience. The
rural school is one room, thirty-three kids, eight grades. He claims that he
cannot devote personal time to each student and ignores those with learning disabilities.
There’s no help at home; the Sangster’s as a whole would get a C-.

“I don’t think my
folks care; we’re all kinda dumb. I wish I could like arithmetic, but I love
reading. And I really like your comics.”

“You’re not dumb.
I’ll help you with the arithmetic.”

The offer is
sincere, both bashful before the banter continues.

Another time,
Chops says, “You like Mary Jane Baker, don’t you?”

The quiet across
the road causes Beans to look back at Chops, who stops walking. His face is so
red that you can’t see his freckles. He’s so angry, he’s sputtering,

“D-d-d-don’t say
that again. It’s not true.”

Beans starts
laughing, realizing from the reaction that it is true and ambles through the
ditch singing. “Phil and Mary Jane up in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G...”

“And don’t call me
Phil.”

Beans is not
listening and scurries up onto the road. Waving to his partner, he yells out, “C’mon,
let’s head into Mr. Harnett’s. He’ll be expecting us. If we hurry, we can still
do the other way – at least down to the old gravel pit, there’s always some
there.”

Chops forgets Mary
Jane for now and hurries to catch up as Beans heads into the bachelor’s lane.

“Yeah and there’s
always some of those soggy, rubbery things – at least one. Did you ask your dad
yet what they are?Mine told me to
forget about it, that I’d know soon enough, whatever that means.”

“No, but I asked
my brother. They’re called condoms, but Dave says everybody calls them rubbers.”

Chops catches up to
his friend as he ponders the new information, trying to visualise a pair of boots
that small. The lane they’re on is dirt and winds through a dense wooded area
for a couple hundred feet until it opens onto huge fields on either side. The
rich soil is green with new shoots of wheat perfectly aligned; running parallel
to the road on one side while in the other field grass grows will, along with purple
clover, white daisies, yellow buttercups, legumes and other herbaceous plants that
will eventually become fodder. The ground is still damp from yesterday’s rain;
the bouquet of worked earth permeates the air, causing the boys to stop more
than once to breathe deeply and comment on how good it smells.

The road eventually splits in two. The lane to
the right narrows as it continues for five hundred feet, ending at a neat white
farmhouse, two storeys with a verandah in the front and a one-storey kitchen in
the back. The yard is thoughtfully groomed, but there are no flowers. Mr.
Harnett lives alone. His sister and her husband live down the other road.

A large barn and
two smaller out buildings are arranged strategically behind the house. The wooden
shingles are weathered as grey as storm clouds; the doors are painted bright
red. The property reflects the owner’s pride.A brand new Chevy Apache sits beside the house, facing them as they
approach. The truck’s double headlights seem to stare at them. A tall bushy
haired man is polishing the chrome bumper. Without turning around he says, “I
was wondering what you two rascals might be up to; you’re usually here before
this.”

Wiping his hands
on the cotton cloth, he stands to face the boys. Mr. Harnett towers above them
and if not for his perpetual smile, he might seem foreboding. Instead, he’s a person
happy with his lot. The three chat for a bit, the man teasing the boys and the curious
boys asking about the new truck. Mr. Harnett soon sends them off to the front
steps where he has placed this week’s empties.

“Goodness, your
wagon is full. Think you can fit some more in there?”

Chops is toting
the bottles to the cart. Beans waves back saying, “We’ll carry them if we have
to. Thanks a lot Mr. Harnett; you’re a swell guy.”

Harnett grins as
he watches the lads tuck some of the bottles in upside down between the others.
Beans ends up carrying three as they head out the lane. Both boys gaze back at him
briefly and he gives them a wave before returning to his polishing. Chops tugs
on the wagon as they come up the slight rise that leads to the wooded area.
When they are about twenty feet away from the woods, the sun that had been
hiding behind a cloud bursts out and glints off something metallic at the edge
of the field, causing both boys to look up. They stop where the hay field meets
the woods. Tire tracks tell them a vehicle has driven across the culvert and
through the uncut grasses. The field extends for a good distance, the land is
slightly hilly and except for the antenna, the vehicle is hidden from their
view. The ten year olds are filled with curiosity. Chops says, “Those tracks
weren’t there when we came in.”

Beans sets the
bottles he’s carrying down beside the wagon.

“And we know it
isn’t Mr. Harnett.”

“Could be his
brother-in-law.”

“Naw, his truck
was at the house, I saw it across the way.”

The boys are given
to wild imaginations; rumours they hear are given more credibility when
something mysterious enters their energetic minds. Chops is the reader, his
thinking more creative.

“Suppose it could
be whoever stole Jason Lawson’s horse?”

The fact that it
would be the unlikeliest of hiding places did nothing to dampen their
enthusiasm. Instead, it fuelled on the possibility of intrigue. Beans is the
action one.

“We should go
see.”

“I don’t know,
Beans. What if it is a thief or worse, thieves?”

“C’mon, we’ll just
sneak along the woods and see. If it’s strangers, we’ll come back and tell Mr. Harnett.
He’d want to know.”

“Okay, but you go
ahead and be quiet.”

They pull the
wagon closer to the tall spruce that borders the road. The boys enter the woods,
keeping the field on their right. Watching where they step so as to be quiet,
they approach to the edge of the field. A womanly shriek stops them dead. It
sounds like she’s in pain. It startles the two so keenly that Chops almost wets
himself. He quickly turns around to head back, but is stopped by a Beans’ hiss.
“Wait! It sounds like a woman and she could be hurt.”

“I don’t care. I’m
scared. Let’s go.”

“Don’t be a
sissy.”

Beans moves
forward slowly, Chops reluctantly following. When they hear voices and groaning,
they drop to their knees. Crawling toward the sounds, they come to the rim of
the field. A white Pontiac is parked at the crux of the right angle of field
and woods. The nose of the car faces them, both doors wide open. From below the
passenger’s door, tangled in the long grass, are four legs. The two feet pointing
up have coloured nails and something pink and lacy hangs from one ankle. The
feet pointing down are shod with black shiny shoes, dress pants scrunched about
the ankles, toes digging in the dirt. The car rocks with the same rhythm as the
thrusting of the heels. The boys don’t understand what is happening. They are shocked
at what they see yet mesmerized by the moaning.

A piercing yell
almost causes Beans and Chops hearts to stop, scaring them so intensely. They
hold their breath. They want to hug the earth but are frozen by what they see.
The car is heaving back and forth more rapidly. A man’s head appears in the
windshield, bent unbelievingly back, his eyes tightly shut, lips stretched into
a grimace, spittle flying from his mouth as he exclaims, “Yes baby, yes baby,
yes baby…”

Suddenly
everything stops, the head disappears, the feet stop moving, the car settles
down. They boys stare at each other in total disbelief.The two innocents have yet to experience an
orgasm and for the life of them cannot fathom what they have just seen. There
is mumbling coming from the car, nothing they can discern.Chops stares at Beans now, wondering what
they should do.A womanly voice urges
softly but commandingly, “Okay, get off me now.”

The lads are
stunned when they see the man stand up before bending down to retrieve his
trousers. It’s Horatio Glendenning, their schoolteacher. A young lady sits up
in the car, tugging at the pink fabric around her ankle, placing the other foot
gently through. Standing behind the man, the woman wiggles the tight panties
into place. When she moves aside to straighten her dress, her face is in full
view.It isn’t Mrs. Glendenning. They
don’t know who it is. Chops is started by a soft blow to his shoulder. Beans
begins to creep away. “Let’s get the dickens outta here.”

They are almost
running when they get to the wagon. Beans tosses the three empties he’d been
carrying into the ditch. “We’ll get those next week.”

Standing behind
the wagon, he gestures for Chops to start pulling while he pushes. The boys are
soon scooting down the wooded lane. Veering to the left the two head directly
home, ignoring whatever empties might be had along the way. There are too many
questions. Their innocent minds can’t understand why the woman had her
underwear off, why the car was shaking, or why the man was repeating himself.
They figure that their teacher was punishing the woman for something.

The conversation
drifts when they turn into Beans driveway and head for the garage. Unloading
the wagon in silence, each boy is preoccupied with his own thoughts. Looking to
Beans for the answers, Chops asks, “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing right
now. I’m going to talk to my brother Dave about this.”

Even though he was
only fifteen, Dave, like his brother and father, is big for his age. He made it
a point to “run into” Mr. Glendenning at the Farmer’s Market one Saturday
morning in July. And when the boys started back to school in the fall, they
never failed an exam. Chops is the first one in his family to get an A.

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Wall of War

Allan Hudson

About Me

My mother taught me to read, to like books, when I was very young. She also taught me how to write. I grew up in the country, even went to a one-room school which was right across the road from our house. She was the teacher. The days I missed were few.

Writing is so much fun and even though I started later in life, I am so happy to realize my dream. Having this blog so I can share other people's work gives me great pleasure.

I've had many adventures in my life. I've travelled throughout North America, gone skydiving, rock climbing, wilderness camping. I craft stained glass and I enjoy woodworking. I'm blessed with many good friends.

I live in the seaside community of Cocagne, New Brunswick, Canada. My wife's name is Gloria. My son's name is Adam and my stepsons' names are Christopher (Mireille) and Mark (Nathalie) Young. My grandchildren are Matthieu, Natasha and Damien. I love them all.

Thank you for visiting. I hope you enjoy my blog. You can reach me by leaving a comment and/or your email address and I'll respond.

Family and Friends.

Review of Wall of War

Buy it Here

Wall of War is available at Amazon.com, Amazon.ca, Cover to Cover in Riverview, Cocagne Variety in Cocagne and from the author.

The Douglas Kyle Memorial Award for Fiction

My story - The Ship Breakers - received Honorable Mention in the Douglas Kyle Memorial awards for New Brunswick Writers Federation's short story category. Watch for it with the coming selection of short stories to be published in 2018